


The Compatability Test

by NotSimplySusurrus



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Doctor (Doctor Who), Doggy Style, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fuck Or Die, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Missionary Position, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSimplySusurrus/pseuds/NotSimplySusurrus
Summary: For information regarding the Hybrid, the Doctor and Master must pretend to be married in order to attend an intimate party hosted by an intergalactic arms dealer. Unbeknownst to them, getting invited to the party isn’t the hard part; the compatibility test to prove their relationship’s legitimacy is.





	The Compatability Test

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Compatability Test 相容性测试](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213303) by [CyanTreeL](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanTreeL/pseuds/CyanTreeL)



> This is my first time posting my writing in forever. I should hope that my writing is much better than it was five or six years ago when I was a more active fanfic author. Let me know what you think!

Big band, swing music accompanies an odd mix of alien creatures attempting motions somewhat similar to those which may qualify as dancing. Bad dancing. The Doctor and I came here looking for answers, and I managed to find them...but the Doctor’s not going to be thrilled about the solution to our problem. I feel the two, gold rings clinking against one another in the pocket of my suit jacket as I approach him. The man he is talking to appears humanoid. Gleaming, purple eyes and patches of scales visible just above the collar of his dress shirt demonstrate how deceiving first impressions can be.

“Why, yes, intergalactic trade codes on arms deals  _are_  far too restrictive.” The Doctor forces a smile, clearly not enjoying having to play nice with war criminals and assassins. I slip one of the gold bands onto my ring finger in the privacy of my pocket.

“Darling, you forgot something important when you were getting ready for this absolutely breath-taking get-together.” I wrap my arm around his waist to pull him closer and offer him the second ring. That forced smile lingers on his face.

“How silly of me?” He can’t manage to hide his confusion but allows me to put the ring on his finger.

“Perfectly charmed that you find my arrangements so pleasing,” the purple-eyed freak says. He smiles, offering me his hand. “Aglantok, your host. And you are?”

“Harold.” I accept his hand. His grip is cold and birdlike. Not in the least bit pleasant. “Has my forgetful husband bothered to introduce himself?” Aglantok laughs, and the Doctor slightly stiffens in my grip upon hearing the word ‘husband’.

“I believe I did,” the Doctor says. “John.” He pauses a moment before adding ‘Saxon’ and shaking Aglantok’s hand. Glad he knows full-well that—if we were human—he’d definitely be taking my name. Aglantok shakes the Doctor’s hand far longer than necessary, with a smirk on his face that makes me want to take a swing at him.

“Humans. Terribly endearing,” Aglantok says. “Hopefully we’ll see more of you sometime soon.” And with that, another pair of guests whisk our host away.

“May I speak with you somewhere private?” The Doctor hisses in my ear. He grabs my hand and drags me to the nearest exit. We end up in an ornate hallway. The Doctor looks up and down the corridor uncertainly before pulling me into another room. He gently shuts the door behind us.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” I ask, smiling innocently.

“The hell was that?” He asks incredulously. I twirl the fake wedding ring on my finger. “Your  _husband_?”

“We came here for information on the Hybrid,” I say. The Doctor crosses his arms, having none of my beating around the bush. “Aglantok knows what we came here to find out.”

“And we needed to be  _married_  because?” He leans heavily against the door.

“The easiest way to get close to him is attending one of his exclusive and... intimate parties,” I explain. “Couples only.” The Doctor bites his lip, looking thoughtful. The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside startles the pair of us. I grab the Doctor by the lapel and push him up against the wall next to the door. I loosen his tie and press my lips to his jaw just as the door opens.

“Excuse me?” A guard I’d seen with Aglantok earlier pokes her head into the doorway. “My apologies for bothering you, but sir asked me to give this to you.”

“I told you this was a bad idea.” The Doctor says with slight grin, finally playing along with my marriage ruse. I accept a smooth envelope from the guard and shoo her away before going back to kissing the Doctor’s jaw. When I can no longer hear her footsteps in the corridor, I stop but make sure to stay nearly in the exact same position. I lean up to whisper in his ear.

“I’m not sure if they’ve got cameras in here.” I set one of my hands on his hip. “But I think it’s safe to have a look inside this.” I kiss him on the cheek before stepping back to better observe the cream-coloured envelope in my hands. I hold it flat in both of my hands, shifting it up and down to feel something sliding around inside of it. The Doctor says nothing, straightening his tie and avoiding eye contact. I open it carefully, tipping its contents—a card and silver key—into my hand.

“May I?” The Doctor asks. I hand over the card but hold onto the key. The number five is engraved on it. “Mr. John and Harold Saxon, you are cordially invited to Sir Aglantok’s private afterparty. Guards will escort you from here directly there following Sir Aglantok’s goodbye toast,” he reads.

“We got in, then.” I exchange the key for the invitation. Sweeping, elegant cursive written in silver takes up the majority of the letter, which is the same colour as the envelope had been. I turn it over. Small, black text takes up barely four centimetres of space on the back. I have to squint to read it. “The penalty for failing the mandatory compatibility test is death.”

“Compatibility test?” The Doctor asks. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Hell if I know,” I reply. The Doctor follows me back into the ballroom a couple of minutes later. We have plenty of time to kill before Aglantok’s stupid speech. I manage to convince the Doctor that dancing together would make our fake marriage more convincing. He’s good. Surprisingly so. Aglantok’s speech is as boring as I expected it to be but thankfully short. Two guards accompanied by some sort of representative of Aglantok come to escort us to wherever this afterparty is supposed to take place.

“Good evening esteemed guests.” The representative says as the five of us make our way down the corridor the Doctor and I had wandered down earlier. “Your compatibility test will take place in testing room number five.” I offer the Doctor my hand. He accepts, giving it a squeeze.

“What, precisely does this...compatibility test consist of?” The Doctor asks Aglantok’s representative.

“In the past, we’ve had certain individuals attempt to infiltrate Sir Aglantok’s confidential receptions. Some, thieves of his precious objects. Others, thieves of sensitive information.” The representative stops in front of a door with a well-polished, silver number five on it. “We simply have to ensure that couples interested in attending these parties are truly couples. The instructions for the exam are on the side table by the bed.” The Doctor squeezes my hand harder. “Your key, sir?” The Doctor hands it to the representative, who opens the door for us. He ushers us inside.

“How do you verify the completion of these tasks?” I ask, looking around the room. There’s a bed in the middle, which appears admittedly comfortable. Beside the bed sits a small table with a drawer set inside of it.

“Due to a circuitry issue that occurred earlier today, there are cameras with only visual intake sir,” the representative explains. “The instructions sheet will tell you where specific implements you may need are placed around the room. Take as much time as you need.” The representative smiles at us and leaves the Doctor and I alone. He locks the door behind him.

“We should...we should maybe look at th—the instructions.” The Doctor wrings his hands together nervously.

“You know exactly what they want us to do Doctor,” I reply.

“But—”

“Sure, we’ll have a look, but there’s a bed in the middle of the room.” I open the drawer of the bedside table. The instructions are bound in a laminated booklet. I hand it to the Doctor, who quickly reads through it. He takes a deep breath and sits on the bed.

“Three acts of...that particular form of intimacy.” He says, staring blankly into space. “The human penile refractory period is approximately fifteen minutes. That means—to be convincing and accounting for the acts themselves—we have to be here at least an hour.”

“Better get to it, then. Don’t want them getting suspicious of us, now do we?” I take the instruction booklet from the Doctor, looking for the location of lubricant. I find an enema kit, too. I toss it onto the bed, and the Doctor jumps when it lands next to him. “You know how to use that?” I ask.

“No!” He exclaims. “Wh—what is it?” I point to a door I hadn’t noticed when we walked in.

“That’s the toilet. It comes with instructions.” I continue looking through drawers and cabinets to see what else is in here. I look back at the Doctor, who hasn’t moved an inch. “Come on, you can read.” I sigh, walking over to the bed and placing the package in his lap.

“I’m still shocked.” He says, shaking his head. I take his hands in mine.

“Not only do we need to do this in order to get what we need, but now the threat of failing this ‘compatibility test’ is  _death_.” I kiss his cheek. The Doctor looks uncertainly at the kit in his lap. “I’ll be gentle, promise.” The Doctor grimaces.

“How long is this going to take?” He asks.

“Not long to use it. But we’ll need to wait about an hour afterwards, so get on with it.” I pull him to his feet and push him gently toward the loo. I pass the time waiting for the Doctor by looking through every sex toy and other sex implement in the room. It’s all very interesting. I’m rather partial to the use of a riding crop, but now’s definitely not the time to experiment.

“I’m ready I think?” The Doctor says uncertainly, tiptoeing back into the room in his pants and undershirt after the hour is up. I look him up and down, making him blush. I’m sitting on the floor surrounded by sex toys. The Doctor cracks a smile. “You seem a bit preoccupied, though.” He sits on the edge of the bed. I stand, nudging a dildo out of my way with my foot to step out of the circle of toys.

“Feeling better about this, I see?” I say, pulling off my suit jacket. I set it on the back of a loveseat and toe my shoes off.

“I suppose.” He replies with a shrug. “This is important information, after all.” Though the sight of it makes his face redden again, the Doctor watches me undress. He smiles shyly, looking at me with great curiosity as each layer comes off.

“See something you like?” I ask, now just as unclothed as he is.

“It’s just I’ve never been particularly interested in the way people  _look_ , but...”

“But?”

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, flushing impossibly redder. “You’ve always been beautiful.” I haven’t the slightest idea as to how to respond to that.

“Lie down,” I instruct. He nods, knowing I don’t do feelings very well. The Doctor then moves backward on the bed so that his legs won’t dangle off the end before lying down. I settle on top of him. As I’m about to kiss him, he stops me.

“Wait, how come you get to be on top?” He asks, as if this is the very first time he’d ever even considered the question.

“One thousand years of friendship, and it’s like we’ve never even met,” I reply. At this, he grins.

“I’m just a bit nervous,” he admits. “It’s like you orchestrated this entire affair to take this regeneration’s virginity.”

“You’re a virgin?” I ask incredulously. He nods, blushing yet again. “Seriously?”

“You...didn’t do that, right?” We stare at each other a moment before both of us burst into laughter.

“Alright, serious now.” I say when I manage to catch my breath. I distract myself a moment, brushing my thumb over his cheek. I’m surprised by how soft his skin is. He lets me pull his shirt over his head then helps me pull off mine. I gently trace my finger over the skin just above the hem of his pants. I pull them off of him, feeling the beat of his hearts increase. With an unreasonable amount of effort, I pull off my own, realising that this position is not conducive to such a motion. Now that we’re both naked, I take the time to study his body. I run a finger down his sternum. Being so close to his face, I see far more freckles than I thought he had. I tweak one of his nipples, making him shiver. I run my hands down his sides, over his thighs, and back up his chest. I watch his face the entire time. I push his thighs apart with my knee, and he spreads his legs for me. The Doctor offers a small smile of encouragement. This brings my hands back to his face. I bend down to kiss him for the very first time. His lips are softer than I could have possibly imagined. He’s happy to take a more passive role. Unpractised? Sure, but he tries really hard to please me. And that’s what really matters. Lips still pressed against his, I grope around the bedside table for lube. I have to pull away from the Doctor to reach it.

“Please be gentle,” he says softly.

“If I’m being completely candid, it will be somewhat uncomfortable at first.” I pour lube on two of my fingers. “But it will be  _very_  uncomfortable if you can’t relax.” Massaging his thighs with my clean hand calms him enough for me to push one of my fingers inside of him. “Deep breaths, sweethearts. Calm down and just relax for me.” He nods quickly, staring up at me with those big, brown eyes. Adding a second finger makes him whimper quietly.

“I don’t know if I like it,” he says. I grab one of his hands with my free one and push it in between us. “What are you—” I silence him with a kiss.

“Touch yourself for me.” I say, lips nearly pressed up against his ear. “A good distraction, trust me.” I don’t imagine the Doctor masturbates often. But I wonder what he thinks about when he does? I can feel his hand moving up and down carefully in between us. Every so often, his knuckles brush against my cock and he looks away from me, the movement of his hand ceasing all together for a short time. But then it starts to happen more frequently. He manages to make eye contact with me before doing it once more, purposefully. “Do it again.” He does me one better, closing his fist around my cock with a shy smile. I push a third finger inside of him, and he winces slightly but continues touching me until I’m hard. He picks up the little bottle of lube from where I’d dropped it on the bed beside us. He uses it on me but pours too much. The excess drips onto his stomach.

“I’d like to get this over with,” he says softly. I nod, suddenly surprised that any of this is happening at all. When I move to replace my fingers with my cock, the Doctor closes his eyes. Pushing in just a little bit makes his jaw clench.

“Hey, look at me.” I gently stroke his hair. His eyes open slowly. “Come on, relax for me.” He’s wound up tighter than a spring. I slide my hand down from the top of his head to his cheek, running my thumb over those freckles of his. “Breathe.” I press my forehead against his, looking to get access to his mind, which he opposes immediately.

“This is already too much,” he whimpers.

“Then let me help you relax.” I push against his mental defences once again. Apparently I’d been pushing pretty hard because, as soon as he lets me in, our minds mesh into one another so quickly that it hurts. I take the opportunity that a few minutes of head-throbbing pain gives me to push all the way inside of him. As the pain in my head ebbs away, the Doctor grins at me as if I said something funny. “Are you alright?” I ask, pulling away from him enough to better see his face.

“I can feel what you’re feeling,” he says. Tears spring to his eyes as he stares into mine. “How much you care for me. How much this pleases you. How much you need me.” A tear rolls down his cheek, and I wipe it away. “I’m so happy,” he whispers.

“Then why are you crying?” I ask, worrying that maybe being connected both mentally and physically  _is_  too much for him.

“Happy tears, Master.” He reaches up to brush his fingers across my cheek. “Happy tears.”

“I’m going to move my hips now,” I say. “Is that alright?” The Doctor bites his lip, nodding. I pull out just a little bit, and his eyes flutter closed. Slow, gentle thrusts make him moan. “That feel good, hmm?” The Doctor nods again, enthusiastically this time.

“I’m okay.” He says, his eyes opening again. He offers me a small smile. “Kiss me, please.” I do as he asks, planting gentle, teasing kisses on his chest, neck, and jaw. He pouts, wanting me to kiss him on the lips. I thrust harder, distracting him from my teasing. “Master!” Hearing my name from him makes me impossibly harder. He wraps his legs around my waist, grabbing at my hair to try and get me to kiss him properly. I pin his hands above his head and kiss his neck instead of giving him what he wants. He whines my name, twisting in my grip. I stop moving altogether, staring down at him. The Doctor regards me angrily, huffing a decidedly bratty “no” at me. I release his hands and watch his expression quickly shift from anger to worry. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to stop.

“Off,” I command. His legs slowly unwrap from around my waist. “Good boy.” I reward him with a kiss on the cheek. He smiles at me, looking somewhat shy again. “Now spread your slutty legs for me—nice and wide—and beg me to fuck you.” That pretty, shy smile fades from his face to be replaced by a look of confusion. “Come on, Doctor. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to beg.” He looks away from me.

“I’ve never done  _this_  before,” he admits. “With cis women, sure, but...not like this—in any regard.” So my pegging him as a boring, vanilla kind of lover was accurate.

“You can start by saying please.” In a way, it feels as though I’m corrupting him. I like the thought of that. Perhaps a little too much. The Doctor risks a glance at me, blushes, and looks away again.

“Please,” he says softly.

“You can do better than that.” I wrap my hand around his throat and squeeze gently, startling him into looking at me again. “Please  _what_?” I ask.

“Please Master.” Those big, brown puppy dog eyes of his nearly make me give in. I release the grip I had on his throat.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” When he says nothing more, I pull out and push back into him agonisingly slowly. The Doctor’s toes curl and he whimpers another, soft ‘please’. “Beg for more of my cock and you can have it.”

“Rassilon,” he mutters. “Master p—please, please fuck me.” I run my thumb over his lips, smiling when he tries to get it in his mouth.

“Getting closer, baby boy,” I whisper.

“I need it.” The Doctor pushes his hips toward me as best as he can. “Please, want you so bad. Need you so bad. You feel so good inside of me, Master. And I’m begging you to give me more of you and—” he pauses a moment, blushing furiously. “More of your cock,” he says shyly.

Finally, I relent, pressing my lips against his and thrusting into him again. The Doctor parts his lips for me, happy to let me be in control of him. When need for oxygen forces me to pull away, he’s panting and red-faced. He grins at me, lifting his head up as far as he can manage in such a position to try and kiss me again. I bend down toward him again, making him think I’m going to give him what he wants. I whisper in his ear, instead.

“Naughty, naughty boy.” Somewhere between hearing him call me by my name and now, I’d gone slightly off the rails. From the sound of my pelvis slapping against his, I’m surprised he isn’t telling me it hurts. “I didn’t know all those dirty thoughts were swirling around in that beautiful mind of yours.” The Doctor nods, beaming at me like he’s completely lost his mind. “Tell me you’re a whore.” I grab his hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck to me.

“I’m a whore,” he says immediately. I graze my teeth along this newly exposed, delicate skin until he whimpers and squirms. “But _only_ your whore, Master,” he adds. Upon hearing this, I release the hold I’d had on his hair and kiss him like I need the feeling of his lips against mine more than oxygen. But the need for air wins out when the Doctor pushes me away—just as I feel my oxygen bypass system giving out. He moans my name—perhaps the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard in all my life—before cumming both on his stomach and my chest. He goes a bit limp then, breathing heavily and watching my face with his dark lashes so close to touching his cheeks you’d think his eyes were completely closed.

“Well I’ve made someone happy.” I kiss him again, focusing exclusively on my own pleasure. His lips are so soft and his body so reactive. Being buried inside him feels so good. Good enough to—

“Master!” Having regained his senses, the Doctor sounds less than pleased about my finishing inside of him. I kiss him deeply—mostly to keep his complaints quiet—before pulling out.

“You did ejaculate  _on my chest_ , if memory serves me correctly.” I lie down on my back beside him.

“Fair enough,” he mumbles. The Doctor grabs my hand and cuddles up against me. “We should have done that sooner.”

“Lucky for you, we’re not done just yet.” I bring his hand to my lips to place a gentle kiss on it before getting on top of him again.

“Fifteen minutes,” the Doctor says admonishingly.

“Human anatomy is rubbish.” I reply, kissing his chest and rubbing one of his nipples between my finger and thumb. “If I’m on top of you, they won’t be able to tell whether you’re hard or not.” The Doctor’s face reddens again.

“I doubt they know that much about humans,” he reasons. The Doctor bites his lip, looking down at me. I move closer to his pelvis in response, kissing where the waistband of his pants would rest if he were wearing any. He pushes his hips up at me with a quiet whimper.

“What is it that you want?” I ask innocently before placing another kiss ever so slightly lower than the one before. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

“I want...” he pauses, considering how to continue. “More?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Another, gentle kiss. “Or I’ll just have to keep teasing you.” He shakes his head at this, frowning at me. “Now, we clearly don’t want  _that_.” I smile, slowly running my hand down his side and making him squirm. “So, tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want your mouth, Master, but not there.” He frowns at me again and closes his eyes. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. Embarrassing, indeed. And I am hard again because of it. I grasp his shaft, stroking it languidly a few times.

“He’s just perked right up.” I grin at the Doctor, who now watches my every movement with utter disbelief that it’s  _me_  touching  _him_  like  _this_. I slowly drag my tongue over the head of his cock. He bites his knuckles to keep from making any noise. “Come now, they can’t hear you.”

“But you can.” He says, voice straining as he fights to keep control of himself.

“That’s the fun part.” A long stroke of my tongue on the underside of his shaft forces a moan past his lips. “You want me to suck you off?” The Doctor nods quickly. “Say it, and I will.”

“M—Master I want...I want you to—to, uh, suck me...off.” He’s so damn cute. I want to give in, but I‘m not finished having my fun just yet.

“You’ll have to repay the favour, of course.” I take him into my mouth, bobbing my head shallowly a few times before pulling off of him to tease the head of his cock again.

“Rassilon yes, yes I’ll do it—just please! Please I need more.” The sound of him bending to my will drives me up the wall, but fair is fair. I’ve found that I don’t have much of a gag reflex. I can take him all the way to the base, and he nearly screams. I can feel his muscles tensing up under the ministrations of my touch. He continues to watch me, biting down on one of his knuckles to keep quiet. He simultaneously looks a bit tired yet enraptured by the experience. I wink at him, drawing another pleasured whine past his lips. One of his hands rests above his head, balled into a fist. He pulls the other away from his mouth, giving up on trying to keep quiet. “Could...could I?” His hand hovers in the air somewhat near the top of my head. I pull off of him to speak, resulting in him whimpering and bucking his hips at me.

“Keep your hips still,” I instruct. He nods, clenching his jaw and ceasing his movement. “You can put your hand in my hair but try not to pull too hard.”

“Yes Master, but please...please?” He gently sets his hand on top of my head. The Doctor smiles at me as his body trembles, eager for more.

“Such a little slut for me,” I tease. The Doctor merely nods, and I go back to giving him head. I let him come in the back of my throat because I have every intention of making him swallow when the roles are reversed. Once he’s spent, I kiss him, wanting him to taste himself on my lips.

“Thank you.” He says softly in the middle of our making out.

“This is quid pro quo, sweethearts.” I kiss him once more. “When I allow you to be anywhere other than beneath me, you’re going to get on your knees for me. Right on the floor beside the bed. I’m going to teach you how to please your Master.” I slide off of him like a rider dismounting some beast. He stares at me for a brief moment, taking in the sight of my naked body, then gets up to kneel beside the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed, spreading my legs. “Come.” I point to the space between them. The Doctor shuffles over to where I’d indicated. “Good boy.”

“I’m not a dog,” the Doctor huffs.

“Quite right,” I say. “Just a whore.” He rolls his eyes but plays along because he knows he must. “Open up.” The Doctor opens his mouth. “A bit more. Make sure to keep your teeth out of the way.” I pull him closer to me by that floppy, brown hair of his. He takes me into his mouth without being asked but gags halfway down. “Rassilon, it’s not a race.” I drag him off me, hand still tangled in his hair. “The last thing I want is for you to be sick all over me.”

“I’ve never done this before.” He says, drawing the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Oh, you think?” I ask mockingly, releasing the hold I’d had on his hair. At this, Doctor deflates a bit.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at the floor. “I’m trying my best.” The Doctor has always had a talent for making me feel guilty about being hard on him. Using a finger, I tip his head up to make him look at me again.

“That’s why I said I’d teach you.” I smile, patting his head in a gesture that I hope is somewhat comforting. “Take your time and tease me. Don’t forget to use that pretty tongue of yours.” He blushes profusely. “You won’t be able to take all of it without practice. But for now, you can use your hand, too.” Neither of us say anything for a long moment, staring at each other without a word spoken between us.

“For now?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“If you don’t want to continue these kinds of...relations after all this is said and done, I suppose I understand.” I cup his cheek in my hand. “Perhaps it was silly of me to think you’d want more of this.”

“I’m surprised there’s any more to learn,” he says. The Doctor offers me a small smile. “While I’ve never been particularly interested in any of this, I am...” he pauses, searching for the right word. “Curious—curious enough to want to be taught more.”

“That’s a good boy,” I reply. “Now try again.” The Doctor takes me into his mouth once more, far slower this time. He’s not great, but he’s good enough to get me to come in his mouth. The look on his face when I tell him to swallow is priceless. It’s a mix between bewilderment and slight indignation.

“I don’t think I like that at all,” he grimaces.

“We’re almost done.” I say, patting the bed beside me. The Doctor takes a seat there. “Now I’m going to fuck you again.” His eyes grow wide and his face flushes practically crimson at the ease with which I’m able to announce such a thing. “Now get on your hands and knees, you filthy, little whore.” Still shocked from what I’d said before, the Doctor obeys without a second thought. I grab a handful of his hair and pull until he arches his back for me so pretty. Being taken from behind draws the most enticing sounds from him. Each little moan and whimper comes out sounding strained from the way I’m pulling his head back. The way he keens and begs for more gets me too close, too fast. I slow down then, and the rough, deep strokes that result drive him absolutely wild. I push his face into the bed and fuck him harder. He screams my name, and the sound of it is like music to my ears. He comes all over the duvet, and shortly after I come inside of him again. I accidentally bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. The Doctor slumps into the mattress when I pull out of him. I push him onto his side to spoon him. The Doctor takes deep breaths, welcoming the feeling of my arm draped over him. He pushes back against me, sighing happily. We rest in silence for what feels like forever.

“I love you,” the Doctor whispers.

“Doctor...”

“You don’t have to say it back.” He says, briefly looking over his shoulder at me. “It’s okay if you don’t. I understand completely—however you feel—and, Rassilon, I shouldn’t have said anything at all but I’m sorry I did and—”

“I love you, too.” I grab his hand and kiss him on the cheek. “Of course, I love you.” We return to pleasant silence, waiting for Aglantok’s representative to return and tell us we’ve passed.

We are a real couple, after all.


End file.
